All Falls Down
by Cassy27
Summary: After having been missing for years, Don finds his brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost? UNFINISHED
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) I have returned to the universe of Numb3rs! I never thought it would happen, but it did anyway. This story just came to me and I thought; I want to write this. So here it is and I can only hope that it will be liked.

**Prologue**

"Come on, Charlie," Don pouted, crossing his arms before his chest. He stood a few yarsd away from him, but he knew Charlie could clearly see him so he put on his most convincing face. "Just one more game."

Charlie eyed his big brother dangerously. He knew what Don meant by '_one more game_'. He always wanted one more and after that, he would even try to persuade him into playing an entirely different game. Charlie never liked sports, but he couldn't say no to Don either and so, every day, he played with him from one till four in the afternoon. After that, Charlie focused on his own game: math.

It was a game Don hated, but Charlie never understood why Don couldn't understand him. Math was easy for Charlie, but he had only recently discovered that it didn't come easy for everyone. He had heard his parents talk about him and how he was a prodigy, but for a long time, he hadn't comprehended what that meant exactly. Now he did, but he refused to become different than the other kids. So he played outside as well with his brother and made sure he understood the ground rules of sports.

"Just one." The little boy of only 7 years old lifted one finger to give his words more strength. He might want to play outside with Don and understand the sport of baseball, that didn't mean he wanted to play it all day.

A large grin filled Don's face. He picked up the baseball laying at his feet and threw the small ball towards Charlie who caught it rather clumsily. Don took the baseball bat in both his hands and quickly ran towards the other end of the back yard. His grin had disappeared now as he wanted to stay focused on his game.

"Ready?" Charlie asked. The ball in his hand felt large. His small fingers couldn't even close around it properly, but Charlie didn't want to let Don down, so he would give him his best throw.

"I'm ready," Don informed him, his eyes nothing more than two thin lines as he focused on the ball in Charlie's hand. His own fingers clenched around the end of the bat and he bended through he knees, making sure that he remained in balance.

The youngest brother threw the ball and Charlie was surprised by the quality of his own throw. The ball made a long and high bow in the air, heading towards Don who hit it with force a normal 12 year old wouldn't have. At least, that was what Charlie thought. Everything Don did was extrordinary.

The baseball deviated from its normal course, however, flying not towards where Charlie stood so that he could catch it again, but it moved over the house and disappeared from sight. Both Eppes-boys glanced towards where they had last seen the ball. For a long second, there was a silence between the brothers.

"You didn't hit it right," Charlie called back, still looking towards the empty space, "but I can calculate where the ball landed so we don't have to search for it."

"Never mind that," Don said while walking towards his little brother, "just go and get it."

"Why me?" Charlie asked indignantly. He spun around on his heels and glanced upwards so he could look into Don's eyes. They weren't supposed to leave the back yard. Their Dad had forbade them this when Don had nearly been hit by a car once.

"Just hurry," Don simply said.

Charlie grunted, but he started running anyway. Not looking back, he crossed the back yard and reached the small driveway where he slid in between the parked car and the wall of their house. Once he stood at the edge of the driveway, he let his gaze slide across the neighbourhood.

There was a boy around Don's age who was cycling up and down the street, wearing nothing more than a blue short. His name was Luke and he lived a few houses down the street. When he saw the young Eppes boy, Luke lifted his hand in a greeting way and Charlie waved back, smiling.

The weather was awfully hot, but Charlie didn't mind. He loved the summer if only because he could play outside with Don. He missed school, but his parents had arranged for him to follow math courses throughout the summer months. No, Charlie thought, he was never bored.

And then his gaze fell upon the small ball that lay at the other side of the street. Charlie made sure that there were no cars before he crossed it, but what he hadn't expected was a sudden arm grabbing him. He didn't react at first, thinking that perhaps it was Don who pulled him back.

It was no familiar face, however, and now, Charlie did cry out. He yelled and screamed. He kicked out his legs and puched the man who was taking a firm a hold of him. The grip hurt Charlie's arm, but he only struggled more, not wanting to give into the stranger. Charlie was only seven, however, and none of his punches or kicks hurt the unknown man.

"Hey!" It was Luke, the cycling boy, who now called out. He had dropped his bike and came running to the young boy in distress. "Leave him alone!" Luke started sprinting now, but by the time he reached Charlie, the man had already thrown him into the back of his car.

"Let him go!" Luke flung himself towards the abducter, but the man only pushed Luke aside, making him fall onto the ground. He quickly moved behind the wheel of his car and started the engine. Before anyone could properly react or understand what had happened, the abducter had driven away, Charlie still screaming in his back seat.

Luke could only gaze to where the car had turned into another street. Slolwy, he turned his head and he was surprised to find that he wasn't alone. At the edge of the driveway of the Eppes-home, stood Don. His lips were slightly parted and his face was pale, every colour having been drained from it.

"He's gone," Don whispered, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend it all. He words were the truth and yet, the two young boys couldn't understand.

Charlie was gone.

**AN: That was the prologue. It is an introduction and the core story will take place years into the future. I know this type of story has been done before, but I hope I can make it different somehow. If you want to know how different or what exactly will happen, then you'll have to keep on reading! **

**But first things first: do you want me to continue this story? Let me know!  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I just really wanted to get it right, but it has been so long since I wrote these characters. If they are a bit ooc, then just let me know. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 1**

When Don rushed down the stairs, he cursed himself for having gotten up so late. He should have already been at the FBI really, but in stead he found himself almost flying down a flight of stairs with his feet barely touching the ground beneath them. He was still getting his clothes fixed when he jumped down the last few steps.

Rushing inside the kitchen, he grabbed a large cup from the counter and poured himself some freshly made coffee. He carefully sipped it so that he wouldn't burn his lips or tongue. That was the last thing he needed right now; getting burned so that he would be even more late at work. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted because today was an important day.

"Good morning, Dad," Don quickly greeted his father who was intently reading the newspaper.

"Good morning," Alan simply greeted him back without looking up from the article that was currently occupying his mind. It seemed he was completely indulged into the events that were written down.

Don come to a halt, however, when realizing his father hadn't even looked up to him. Alan always made sure he was well dressed when he was stressed like this. It had happened more than once that Don had forgotten to put on the right shoes or wear a tie that did not fit with his shirt at all. Now however, Alan seemed to be hiding behind his newspaper.

"Dad, are you alright?" Don carefully asked while putting down his now half empty cup of coffee. Even though he had little time, he could always made time for his Dad. He sat himself down at the table and waited for Alan to put down the paper.

"Yes, I'm alright," Alan answered indifferently. At least, he tried to sound that way. He still did not look up and avoided his son's gaze. "Shouldn't you be going to work?"

Don knew his father was trying to change the subject, but he refused to give into Alan's wishes. Something was wrong and Don would make sure Alan knew he could talk to him.

"Dad," Don said, his voice soft, "what's wrong?"

The eldest Eppes slowly gazed up, revealing his red eyes and dark bags underneath them, indicating how little he had slept the last night. He looked tired, more than that, he looked exhausted. He let his newspaper drop onto the surface of the table and took his own cup of coffee into his hand.

"You're not okay and you know you can tell me anything," Don smiled encouragingly, hoping it would let Alan know that he was telling him the truth. For a long time now, they had been all that was left of the Eppes-family and they had made sure that they remained close. Don's mother, Margaret, had passed away a few months ago.

"It has been twenty years," Alan explained, sighing deeply as he rubbed his free hand over his face, as if he was trying to wake himself up. He exhaled, trying to calm himself. "He would have been twenty-seven this year."

Don silently cursed himself for having forgotten that today was that day, _again_. It had been a while since Alan had lived through a difficult day like today. It had been years after all since he had lost his youngest son. Then again, now that Margaret had passed away, Alan had started to feel more alone and Don knew there was nothing he could do about it. His father missed his family and so did Don.

Today, marked exactly twenty years since Charlie, his younger brother, had been taken from their own front yard. Charlie being kidnapped had been the main reason Don had become and FBI agent. After that incident, he hadn't even liked baseball anymore, because every time he played it, he couldn't stop thinking about that moment when his little brother had been taken away from him and his parents.

After an intense search that had gone on for months, years even, Charlie still hadn't been found. Detectives kept hitting dead ends, and after some time, they had given up on ever finding the young boy. Even though everybody believed the worst (that Charlie was probably dead, killed by whoever had taken him), Don and his family had never given up on him.

A time had come, however, when they just needed to continue with their own lives. Don had never had the same parents anymore after all that. He couldn't remember a day where his mother hadn't cried for her youngest son, and Alan had become overprotective, and yet, more distant. Don had always thought it was because Alan blamed him. After they had shared what must have been a million talks, however, Don had realized that his father was simply scared to get too close to his eldest son. Alan feared that he would lose Don as well and he would not be able to survive that pain all over again.

And then, his mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and she had passed away not too long after that. It had made Alan and Don grow closer as they had suddenly realized that each other was all they had left.

Gazing at his father again, Don swallowed heavily. He wondered how his life would have been if his brother had never been taken, and he wondered most of all, what Charlie would have looked like today. Twenty-seven years old... Would he still have those dark brown curls? Would he still have that pale skin that made him appear so fragile? Was he still a genius or had he grown out of it? Could you even grow out of something like that?

Dozens of questions filled Don's mind, but as ever day passed, the chance of getting answers grew more slim. He cleared his throat, not wanting those question to be consuming his thoughts, as it was an important day. He and his team were about to have a break-through in a case they were currently working on, and Don needed his attention focused on that.

"Are you going to be okay, Dad?" Don asked after a long silence. He stood up from his chair, and drank the last of his cup of coffee.

"Yeah," Alan smiled, "sure."

His smile wasn't convincing, however, and Don wanted to stay in with him today, but he knew he couldn't let down his team.

"If you need anything," Don said, walking around the table and placing his hand on his father's shoulder, "you know you can call me at any time during the day."

"I know, Donnie," Alan took back the newspaper in his hands, "just go to work already, or you'll miss all the fun."

Don laughed at his father's comment. Alan had always been proud of his son being an FBI agent, but he had never really liked the fact that it meant that Don sometimes was in the line of fire. When Alan had first learned of Don's choice of profession, he had barely spoken a word. It had meant, after all, that the chances of losing his eldest son as well had grown exponentially.

"I will see you tonight, Dad," Don promised him before walking out of the kitchen. He grabbed his car keys and before he exited the house, he called out. "Love you!" And then he closed the door behind him, ready for another day at the FBI.

-o-o-

On his way to the FBI, Don tried to convince himself that leaving his father alone hadn't been a bad decision. Last year, on Charlie's birthday, Alan had felt depressed as well, but this year it seemed worse somehow. Don needed to collect all his strength in order not to turn his car around and head back home.

When he finally arrived on his floor in the building of the FBI, he witnessed how everyone was already busy working their current case. Don hurried towards his desk, instantly noticing the enlarged pile of files that he would have to work through before the end of the day. He always began his day by putting on his computer, however, and so today wouldn't be any different.

Megan came walking towards his desk, however, a large smile filling her face. "Good morning," she greeted him.

"Hey," Don greeted her back, "sorry that I'm late."

Megan waved away his apology and simply held out a form for Don to take. He quickly scanned it, not actually reading everything, but then again, he didn't have to. He immediately understood what this meant and he couldn't help but smile.

"What are we waiting on then?" he asked, checking if he had his badge and gun on. He and his team had waited days on the warrant he was currently holding and now that they had gotten the green light, they would have to move out as quickly as possible.

"On you," Megan answered.

"Sorry about that," Don collected the rest of his things as he looked at Megan, "I overslept and then Dad," he sighed heavily, "well, he's having a hard day."

Don knew his father wouldn't like him talking about this at work. His whole team knew Alan very well, and Alan knew them. They had all been to their house on more than one occasion and each time, they had lived through a very pleasant time. Alan wouldn't be able to stand if someone got the idea in their head that Alan might be having such a difficult time.

"Is he okay?" Megan asked, concern filling her voice. She too liked Alan very much.

Don looked her straight in the eyes, and suddenly he realized that he actually wanted to tell all that was on his mind to someone. He couldn't keep it in all day, and who was a better person than Megan to listen to him?

"He would have been twenty-seven today," Don sighed, his voice low, as he only wanted Megan to hear this. "Dad can't stop thinking about it."

"Did you talk to him about this?" Megan asked, her hands resting in her waist.

"Only briefly," Don admitted, realizing now that he should have taken more time to talk to his father. "He seemed really down, but who can blame him? I mean, nobody knows what happened to Charlie, or whether he is even still alive."

"Do you still have hope?" Her eyes had become wide as she awaited an answer she knew couldn't be a wrong one.

Megan was asking him this as a friend, however, and not as a profiler. Don knew this, but that didn't make this subject any easier. The fact that he considered Megan to be a good friend did, however, make this conversation less complicated.

"Hope of ever finding him again?" Don took a long moment to think about that question. "No," he answered while leaning back in his chair. "I don't expect to find Charlie, but I have to believe that he is still alive somewhere."

He pressed his lips together, not sure if he wanted to share anything else, but he couldn't help himself. He needed this talk. "You know," he spoke hesitantly, "when I was a kid, a few months after Charlie was taken, I had this strange dream. I was an policeman and I was sent to investigate a disturbance." His gaze drifted away as he remembered every detail of this dream. "I arrived on a deserted road where a car stood. A man was in there and he was carrying a gun. I fought him and I won." He now turned his gaze to look at Megan who was looking at him intently. "I opened the trunk of the car next and in there, I found a little boy who looked exactly like Charlie. It was him," he swallowed heavily, "in every way, it was my little brother, but it couldn't be, you know? I was an adult, a policeman, and this boy was just five years old. When I woke up, I realized that I could never save Charlie because I only know what he looks like when he was five."

"You must really miss him." Megan leaned forward, her hand resting softly on Don's and she smiled.

"To be honest, after some time passed, I started thinking less about him." He cast down his gaze, feeling guilty for having forgotten this. "I didn't even realize today was the day of his kidnapping twenty years ago."

"You were just a kid when he disappeared, Don, nobody blames you for having moved on with your life," Megan assured him.

Don took in a deep breath, and then smiled. "Let's focus on today," he said, "I want this done and over with, because this Peter Sullivan is working on my lastnerves."

Megan sighed heavily then, biting down on her lower lip. "He and his team hacked four online bank accounts again last night," she informed, "people lost over half a million dollars."

"Then let's stop him before more people lose all their savings."

As Don and his team were headed out to where Peter Sullivan and his gang supposedly hid, he no longer gave Charlie any more thought, because all he was focused on, was getting the job done.

**AN: Again, I consider this chapter to be more of an intro. Not much has happened, but I needed a chapter to tell you guys how Don's and Alan's lives have evolved without Charlie. I hope it wasn't too depressing... **

**But what will happen with Peter Sullivan? You'll have to find out by reading the next chapter (once I have written it). And to all those that are like; where the hell is Charlie? Do not fear... That's all I am going to say about that :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I just really wanted to get it right, but it has been so long since I wrote these characters. If they are a bit ooc, then just let me know. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 2**

Even with their sirens, it took Don and his team quite some time to reach Mercury Road. It was after all, all the way out of the city and Don could truly see now why Peter Sullivan would chose this house to hide out in.

There were hardly any houses in the neighborhood and the ones that were, seemed old and abandoned. The only person Don saw as they were driving through the narrow street, was an old woman that immediately disappeared into her house when seeing all the agents.

Stopping in front of the right house, Don took out his gun, checking again if it was truly loaded and ready to be fired. Peter Sullivan wouldn't be afraid to defend himself and he certainly wouldn't be afraid to kill and agent of the FBI or a person of the SWAT-team accompanying them.

As he exited the car, adrenaline was already racing through his veins, all of his senses sharp. Ducking behind the front door of the car, he watched how the SWAT-team entered the house first with brutal force. When the last member disappeared inside the house, Don and his team moved as well.

Don was the first one to enter, his gun firmly in his hands and pointing at anything that moved. Colby followed next, behind him David and Megan. The hallway was empty, as was the kitchen. Upstairs, Don could hear the footsteps of the SWAT-team, followed by shouts that everything was clear.

When he and his team arrived at the living room, however, they saw three members of the SWAT-team hold a man at gunpoint. It wasn't their man Peter Sullivan, but the stranger certainly resembled him. He had blond curls, a white face and a slender figure. For some reason, he didn't seem harmful, but then again, neither had Peter Sullivan appeared at first. Don had interviewed the man himself and he still cursed the day he had released him.

"What's your name?" Don demanded to know, pointing his gun at the man as well

"Sullivan," the blond man told him, "James Sullivan."

"Peter's brother," David said, understanding now why he bared the resemblance to Peter. "Where is your brother?"

James didn't answer and Don had not expected him to. He knew from informants that these two brothers were very close after all.

"Not cooperating isn't really a good idea," Colby said, "it makes you an accomplice."

Shaking his head, his hands still in the air, James said: "I won't betray my brother. I will never tell you where he is."

"Then you will just have to come to the FBI with us, how does that sound?" Megan said. Putting her gun away, trusting her colleagues to keep James covered, she took out her handcuffs.

That seemed to trigger panic in James' mind. His hands moved almost too quickly to be human, but Don and his team had been prepared for this. Seeing the gun that James pulled, however, made the SWAT-team react even faster. Their guns fired a few shots and almost immediately, James slumped towards the floor, his gun falling with a soft thud to the floor.

Before anything could be said, however, shouts erupted from upstairs. Everyone in the room gazed up, wondering what could possibly be happening.

"You go and look what that is about," Megan said, "I'll handle James Sullivan."

Don watched how his colleague knelt down beside the lifeless body of the man. Megan looked honestly sorry for what had happened. It was never easy to watch a man die before your eyes. Don turned away from her and James, however, motioning towards Colby in order to grab his attention.

"Let's go," Don ordered. He didn't wait on Colby's response, but instantly walked out of the room, finding the staircase that would lead him to the first floor of the house.

Don found himself standing at the end of a small hallway which gave him the perfect view of this floor. He saw four doors, two of which stood wide open and appeared to be abandoned. A third door was closed, but as Don took a step forward, three members of the SWAT-team exited, assuring Don and Colby that the room was clear.

The fourth and last door stood ajar and Don quickly hurried towards it when he heard voices erupting from them. He could hear panic and confusion and Don simply couldn't understand what could possibly be happening in there.

It was Colby, however, who reached the door first. Slowly, the young agent lifted his hand and pushed open the door further, his gun still firmly in his hand. It gave Don the perfect opportunity to take a look inside, though, without actually having to step inside the small chamber.

All that Don saw, were two men of the SWAT-team holding their guns firmly into their hands, pointing it to someone who appeared to be kneeling before them. A third member of the SWAT-team seemed to be kneeling down as well, joining a fourth and unknown man.

Don stepped inside now, needing to get a closer look at the situation.

"What's happening?" Don asked, his gaze shifting between the heavily armed men.

"He's tied to the bed," the leader of the SWAT-team spoke, turning away from the kneeling man, "we'll need something to cut open the handcuffs."

Don moved a little to the right now, wondering why this man would possibly be tied to the bed. His gaze instantly locked with that of the young man and all that Don could see, was a pair of dark, chocolate colored eyes. The moment couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but for Don, it might as well have been hours. Days even.

He recognized that man from somewhere, but he just couldn't put his finger to it.

"Who is he?" It was Colby who asked this.

"His name is Charlie," the leader of the SWAT-team answered, "he says he is a prisoner."

"Let's take him to the FBI," Colby let his gaze slide towards Charlie, but he quickly focused on his Don again. Only now did he seem to notice that his boss was still looking at Charlie, his lips parted and his face very pale.

"_Charlie_," Don breathed. He couldn't believe this, he didn't want to believe this. He had Megan only this morning that he never expected to find his brother again. It could not be that this was _his_ Charlie, his brothers. Yet, Don thought as he swallowed heavily, he had recognized those eyes.

"Don?" Colby moved a little closer to his boss. "Are you okay?"

Don tore his gaze away from Charlie and looked Colby into the eyes. "I need some air." Not even waiting on Colby's response, Don walked out of the room. He found himself hurrying through the hall and jumping down the stairs. Finding the front door open, he dashed through it and then bended forward, his hands resting on his knees.

He couldn't breathe and he couldn't think. All that he could see before him was the image of that tied man upstairs.

"Maybe you should sit down," it seemed Colby had followed him downstairs.

"I..." Don found his throat too dry to even speak.

"What happened?" Megan had just exited the house and instantly, she had seen the strange scene of the pale-looking Don. She quickly went to stand at Don's side and placed her hand onto his back.

"Charlie," Don swallowed heavily, "there is a man upstairs and his name is Charlie. He looks so much like..." He couldn't finish his sentence. He didn't want to get up his own hopes. Charlie was a very popular name after all and many people had brown hair and brown eyes.

But still... Don closed his eyes, seeing Charlie's eyes before him. They looked so much like his younger brother had looked like when he had been five.

"You think he might be your younger brother Charlie?" Megan asked carefully. She pulled back her hand as Don straightened his back.

"I don't know," Don sighed, "it has been years since I saw my brother."

Behind them, more members of the SWAT-team exited the house. With them was the man named Charlie. Now that he was walking in broad daylight, it was easier for Don to see every detail of the man's face.

Charlie had pale skin, his dark brown curls jumping up and down around his face as he walked by. His eyes were cast towards the ground, but it was clear that he a split lip that looked painful. Around his left eye, a dark bruise was visible that seemed to be a few days old. Charlie was a slender figure, making him look very young. For all Don know, this man was still very young.

"Even his curls," Don told Megan, "they are the same."

"I can certainly see some resemblances," Megan said. She had seen many picture of the young Charlie Eppes. Whenever Alan could, he took out a box that was filled with memories of his youngest son. Megan must have seen the contents of that box more than a dozen times.

"We have DNA of your brother," Colby offered, "comparing it with that of this man wouldn't take long."

Don turned to look at Colby and Megan. Slowly, he started to nod. This was his only chance of being sure. If this was truly Charlie, then all that Don could feel was luckiness. This might be his little brother and finally, he would get the answers to his questions.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) Sorry for the very, very, very late update. Here is the next chapter, however, and I hope you'll enjoy it!

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 3**

Don couldn't tear away his gaze from the young man sitting in the interrogation room. For all that he knew, he could have been staring at Charlie for hours. He watched silently as the young man sat at the table, his hands resting comfortable on the cold surface. There was not the smallest clue that Charlie might feel scared, but Don could see more though. He could see in Charlie's eyes that there was fear as there was discomfort and uncertainty of what exactly was happening.

All that Don wanted to do really was go in there and ask him. 'Are you my brother?' It was a simply question, but the answer would be complicated no matter what. If he truly was Charlie Eppes, then what did that mean? Did he have his brother back? And if he wasn't the man Don hoped he'd be, what was he supposed to do then? His hopes would be crushed and then he would have truly lost all hope for his little brother.

"Are you okay?"

Don hadn't heard Megan showing up beside him. He had been so intensely watching Charlie that it seemed he had forgotten all about his surroundings. "I'll be fine," he said.

"Don," Megan sighed, "this is me you are talking to."

A soft chuckle escaped Don's lips. "I forgot," he said, "you can see through every lie." He let his hands slip into the pockets of his jeans, not knowing what else he could do with them. "I don't know what to think," he admitted, "I really don't."

"The lab is rushing the DNA-comparison," Megan assured her boss, "you'll have your answer very soon."

"That's great," he let his head fall forward, his gaze directed at the ground beneath his feet, "but what am I supposed to do with that knowledge? If he really is my brother then..." He bit his lower lip. "Is he still my brother at all?"

A silence fell.

Don looked up to meet Megan's gaze and he could see sympathy in her eyes. She understood the emotional turmoil he was going through and he wasn't even sure he liked that idea. He was her boss after all and so he was supposed to be the one who always knew what to do.

"Why don't you go in there?" Megan asked. "Talk to him, find out more about that man. If he is your brother, then you'll know something of his past. If he isn't, then you'll at least know something about him to help him return home."

_Home_. Don couldn't believe he hadn't called Alan yet. His father should be aware of all that is happening. If it really is Charlie Eppes sitting in that room, then Alan should be here to see him as well.

"I should call dad," Don said, turning away from the one-way-mirror, "he should know what is going on."

"Don," Megan said, "maybe you should wait until you're certain."

Don swallowed heavily. Megan was right. There was no need to alarm Alan if there was still a chance that it was a false alarm. He really should wait until he had back the results of the lab. He only wanted to talk to his father, however, to remind himself that he wasn't alone in all this. "You're right," he simply said, "I have some paperwork to fill in. That should keep my mind busy."

Megan smiled faintly. "You'll soon enough," she said, "and whatever the answer is, it will change everything."

Don could only nod.

-o-o-

"Can you please state your name?" Colby pressed on the record-button on the machine that stood on the side of the table. He picked up his pencil and waited on Charlie to state his full name. Colby had interrogated many before, but this time was different. Never before had it seemed so personal.

"Charlie," the young man moved his hands underneath the table, indicating how uncomfortable this was for him, "that's my name."

"And your last name?" Colby asked.

"I don't know," Charlie admitted reluctantly.

"Okay," Colby tried to smile reassuringly, but he quickly turned serious again. This interrogation was meant to get answers, not raise more questions. "Can you tell us what you were doing in that house?"

"I..." Charlie pressed his lips together for a second, his gaze shifting between Colby and David who had not yet spoken a word. "I was held there against my will."

"By who?" David asked.

"Many men," Charlie answered, "mostly I saw James. He was always the one bringing me food and water. He was a nice man."

"And why were you held there?" Colby placed his pencil onto the paper laying before him. He crossed his hands slowly, his gaze seeking contact with Charlie's. It was clear that he was trying to make the young man feel more at ease, but it was not working.

Charlie leaned back, trying to distance himself from the two agents. "I know they were bad men," he said, his voice tense, "at least not all of them. They never laid one finger on me."

"Then how did you get all that?" David's finger pointed towards the bruises on Charlie's face.

"They were anxious," Charlie explained, "the FBI was closing in on them. I was there for only one purpose and that's my brains."

Colby's eyebrows shot up. "Your brains?"

"I'm good with numbers," Charlie said, "I've always been good with them. Every day for the past few years, I was to solve a puzzle or to make an algorithm. The tasks were never difficult and it pleased the Boss."

"And who is that?" David wanted to know.

"I never actually met him," Charlie said, "but he made sure I was safe and that I had everything I needed. He took care of me for years. This life, where I move from house to house, it's the only life I know."

"The only life you remember," Colby corrected him.

"Does it make a difference?" Charlie crossed his arms before his chest. "I've had a good life."

"Except where you have been forced to do math," Colby said, starting to get a better picture of the whole situation now, "where you aided this Boss in stealing money."

"I had no other choice," Charlie defended himself, "I once disobeyed him when I was just a kid. I was tired of all the numbers, of all the math. It was summer, but I was never allowed to leave my room. I just wanted to play outside, play baseball even though I suck at it." He took in a deep breath. "I always had this dream, you see, where I was outside and I had a friend. He loved to play baseball with me even when I kept failing in throwing the ball just right. It's the only friend I can remember to have ever had." Charlie cast down his gaze, lost in thought. "Everything in this dream is always just perfect, until it starts moving into a nightmare where I run onto the street to get our ball back, but I never reach it because a man takes me away."

Charlie gazed up again just in time to witness how Colby and David exchanged a meaningful look.

"The first and only time I snuck out of my room to go play outside," Charlie added, "I was caught and for the next three days, I could barely move my arm because when that man guarding my door pulled me back inside, he used too much force." He sighed deeply. "When the Boss found out, he had the man fired. Like I said," Charlie let his gaze slide from Colby to David and back again, "the Boss made sure I was safe."

**AN: This chapter is done. I had two reasons for writing this one: I wanted to show a little insight in Don's emotions and I also wanted Charlie to reveal a little about his past. I am not sure if we should be happy about that or not because Charlie might never have been physically hurt, he could not have had a happy childhood.**

**But what does it all mean? I will write the next chapter as soon possible! Thanks for reading this :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) I want to thank all those that reviewed! It had been so long since I updated and I really thought no one would be interested in this story anymore. I hope this chapter will be liked as well.

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 4**

Don had been staring at the file for nearly half an hour now. He could see numbers and letters, but no sentences. None of what he read made sense, but then again, his mind solely occupied with the possible return of his long lost little brother.

It was only when Megan came to stand next to his desk that Don tore away his gaze from the file. He leaned back into his chair, witnessing only now the nervousness that filled her face.

"What's wrong?" Don asked. His thoughts instantly went to Charlie.

"I think you're right," she said, her hands resting in her sides, "I think that he is your brother."

Don didn't know if he felt relieve fill him or anxiety. Perhaps he felt both at the same time. This was about his brother after all and Don was well aware that these situation were nothing like in the dozens of movies he had seen. There were never emotional hugs or tears of happiness involved.

"Don," Megan called back his attention, "you should talk to him."

"Are you sure it's him?" Don asked. Only hours ago, he had been trying to convince her that he was right and now it seemed he needed Megan to convince him. It was a strange day, Don knew, and he longed for it to be over. He felt tired and filled with energy at the same time.

Megan looked into Don's eyes, her lips curved into a soft smile. "I think it's him," she confirmed.

The words were enough for Don to believe her. He trusted Megan with his life and he knew that if she was convinced, then it had to be his brother Charlie and not some stranger who looked an awful lot like him.

Don hurried towards the interrogation room, finding himself in a situation that resembled a very long dream. This was real, however. He pushed open the door, Colby and David instantly gazing at their boss. They didn't need words to understand what was happening and they rose from their seats, leaving the room silently.

"I told the other all that I know," Charlie said as Don took a seat before him. It was clear that the new situation caused him discomfort as he didn't know what was happening. At least, that was how Don interpreted the sudden high pitch in Charlie's voice.

"That's good," Don tried to assure him. He felt, however, that he was in no situation to act comforting. This was as strange and unreal for him as it was for Charlie. "Charlie, I'm not here for the case."

"Then why are you?" Charlie frowned.

"Agent Reeves told me about a nightmare you had as a kid," Don said, trying to make Charlie understand as best as possible what this really was about, "you were playing baseball outside with a friend until a man grabbed you and took you away." Don shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Charlie was looking intently at him until he would understand what Don was trying to tell him.

"My name is Don Eppes," Don swallowed heavily, "and I'm your brother."

Charlie remained silent, his eyes now averted. "You're lying," he said suddenly.

"I would never lie to you," Don said. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You were kidnapped when you were just a child. I witnessed all of it. I'm the friend from your dream."

"Exactly," Charlie's eyes became dark and threatening, "from my _dream_. It's not real. It was never real." He leaned away in his chair, trying to distance himself as much as possible from Don. "This is a trick," he said, "you are playing me, trying to gain my trust. I know nothing of the Boss, I swear!"

"It's okay," Don could hear the panic in Charlie's voice and he only wanted it to disappear, "I'm not playing a trick on you. Look at me. Charlie, please look at me."

Charlie's eyes were closed and his face was directed towards his hands laying in his lap. As he heard Don's voice, he pressed his lips together, trying not to make a sound.

"Look at me, Charlie," Don said, his voice surprisingly soft.

Charlie opened his eyes, connecting his gaze with Don's. The two brothers looked at each other for a long moment and Don could suddenly see why he had recognized Charlie before, even after all the years that had passed. Charlie's eyes had a distinctive color of chocolate brown that stood brightly against his pale skin.

"I know you are my brother," Don said, "I recognize you. This is hard and difficult and yet, I'm happy because you are sitting before me, alive and well."

"I do remember you," Charlie said, his voice almost a whisper, "but after months had gone by, I started to believe that you weren't real, that I had imagined it all."

"You didn't," Don smiled, "I'm real and it's all over because you can come home now."

"To dad," Charlie's eyes shone brilliantly as he remembered his parents, "to mom."

His words felt heavy on Don's chest who bit his lower lip. He gazed away from his brother, not knowing how he could tell Charlie about the death of his mother.

"O." Charlie said suddenly, having understood instantly what was happening.

"Our mother died," Don explained, "but there wasn't a day where she didn't think of you."

Charlie simply nodded, processing all that was coming at him. Don could understand that this couldn't be easy. After all, Charlie would have to adjust to a whole new life where he has an actual family.

"When can I leave?"Charlie asked, his voice sounding very fragile. "I've been locked in a room my entire life. I would like to leave this one as well."

"Sure," Don nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. This had gone better than he had expected. Still, Charlie appeared broken, lost in his thoughts. The end was not nearly in sight. "How would you like to go home?"

Charlie's face brightened, though for not longer than a second. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "for not having given up on me."

"I'd never give up on you," Don said. He meant every he had just spoken and his only wish was that Charlie would believe him.

"Is that a promise?"

The question took Don off guard. He had not expected and the answer was an easy one, but somehow Don found it strange to say the words out loud. "I promise," he said, seeing a hint of relief in Charlie's eyes. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Charlie smiled, "I think I'm ready to go home."

"Good," Don simply said.

-o-o-

The paperwork had been taken care off, Charlie had signed his statement, and Don knew there was nothing left for them at the office anymore. So he had guided his brother outside and to the car. The drive home would be a long one, but Don knew it would seem longer for Charlie than for him. After all, he was about to meet his father again. Don simply couldn't help but smile. Perhaps the movies did have it right, perhaps a reunion with a long lost brother was all magical and perfect.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. He shouldn't be telling himself fairytale stories. Charlie might be returning home, that didn't mean the nightmare had already turned into a dream. Difficulties lay ahead, but Don was sure that they would concur them.

As they drove into the street of the house, Don watched Charlie's reaction closely. There were hints in his eyes that he remembered the neighborhood, but he also seemed so small and fragile as if he didn't know how to react properly.

"How are you feeling?" Don asked with caution.

"Strange," Charlie admitted, "for years I tried to remember this, but it was like remembering details from a long lost dream. Now that I'm here, it all seems so obvious. I should have remembered, but I didn't."

"You were only seven when you were taken," Don said, "that is a very young age to be still remembering every detail, especially since you never saw this neighborhood again."

"Yeah," Charlie said, his gaze down again, "I'm just glad I'm back."

"Here we are," Don said. He parked the car before the house, his gaze immediately finding Alan standing on his porch. His hands were folded as if in prayer and his cheeks were wet. Don couldn't recall the last time his father had cried. "He loves you very much," Don told Charlie as he still gazed at their dad, "and he has dreamed of this day ever since you were taken."

Charlie nodded. "He hasn't changed much," he said, looking intently at his father, "he's looking older of course, but other than that..." His voice trailed off as he became lost in his thoughts.

"Let's go," Don smiled. He pushed open the door of his car and exited. Charlie followed his example and as they walked across the front lawn, Alan came hurrying towards them. Coming to a halt when he stood right before Charlie, Alan began to laugh.

"It is you," Alan said, having regained control of his emotions again, "my God, you are perfect." His arms found their way around Charlie's shoulders and he hugged his son tightly. Don could only smile when Charlie returned to embrace, a soft smile playing around the corners of his lips.

"Welcome home, Charlie," Don said.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own) I can only hope Colby, David and Megan aren't OOC. It has been so long since I wrote these characters!

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 5**

Colby kept staring at the thick file laying before him on his desk. His back was starting to ache and his legs felt heavy as he had been sitting in this position for what could have been an hour already. No matter how many times he reread the file, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

For a short moment, he closed his eyes. He should take a break from the case. Perhaps then he would find that it all did fit.

"What'ya doing?" David asked, a grin playing around the corners of his lips. He was sitting on the edge of his colleague's desk, watching him open his eyes, startled by the sudden presence of David.

"I'm trying to figure it all out," Colby said. There was no use in hiding his concerns. He watched how David lifted the file from his desk, letting it fall onto his lap. His eyes quickly scanned the text, his gaze turning back to Colby in confusion. "Something isn't right," Colby explained.

"This is about Charlie," David noted, putting the file back on Colby's desk. "Everything seems fine to me."

"I know," Colby quickly said. If there was one thing he had learned in Afghanistan, however, was that he needed to trust in his instincts. "It's just," he spoke more carefully now, "odd. There are parts in his story that don't make sense. He told us the men in the house had become violent because they could feel the FBI closing in on them, but the bruises on his face are fresh. Like one-hour-fresh. We have been closing in on the Sullivan's trail for days so if Charlie is so important to the Boss, then why was he even still in that house?"

Colby sucked in a deep breath, feeling relieved that he had gotten his doubts off of his chest. He meticulously watched David's response, but all that he saw was confusion and concern.

"I don't know," David sighed after a short silence, "it all seems far fetched."

Colby nodded. For a second, he was starting to believe that David was right, but as he saw Megan pass them by, her arms filled with must a dozen files, he got an idea.

"Megan," he called for her attention. The female agent turned on her heels, walking back to her two colleagues.

"Can I ask you something?" Quickly, he added; "hypothetically?"

"Sure," Megan said, dropping her files onto Colby's desk, her arms resting in her sides.

"Say I kidnap a kid," Colby could feel David's warning gaze on him, but he ignored it, "and I want him to forget all about his first childhood because I want to gain his complete trust. I want him to work with me."

"Okay," Megan said slowly, a frown covering her brow. She shifted her eight uncomfortably. "I suppose the first thing you would have to do is give the child a new name. You have to distance him from his old identity, from his family. Every memory he still has, needs to be deleted by saying those things never happened. If you really want that child to accept his new life, you have to give him a new family or someone who he can trust completely."

"I see," Colby said quietly.

"What does this have to do with Charlie?" Megan suddenly asked. Her eyes stood wide, her eyebrows high. It was clear that she wanted to hear the truth and not a weak excuse.

"Colby is just imagining things," David said. He rose from the desk again, ready to walk away, but Colby wasn't going to let that happen.

"It's not right," Colby said, "none of what Megan said happened."

"What are you talking about?" Megan was at a complete loss and David wasn't helping either.

"Charlie didn't get a new name," Colby tried to express his thoughts as well as possible, but it was still difficult. He was currently walking on thin ice since Don was not only their boss, he was their friend. "when we found him, he was still 'Charlie' and he still remembered all those things from his childhood with Don. He has worked with this Boss and the Sullivans for years, but why?"

"I was speaking hypothetically," Megan said softly, "Colby, you are looking for problems where there aren't any." She picked up her files again and walking away, David following her example.

And Colby stayed behind, still consumed by doubts.

-o-o-

Charlie couldn't believe that he was actually standing in this living room again. Nothing much had changed, only the pictures. Where there used to be a young, black haired boy, now stood an adult man with a baseball cap. Don's pictures stood high onto a bookshelf, proudly presented to anyone who entered.

There were pictures of a young boy still, but Charlie found it difficult to look at those. The boy had short brown curls, his skin white and his dark red lips turned into a smile. Charlie knew he was looking at himself, but he somehow couldn't make the connection. It felt like looking at a complete stranger.

Soft voices erupted from the kitchen where Don and Alan had disappeared into a few seconds ago. It was all very strange for Charlie to be back, for him to see his father again. It had been pleasant and unexpected, but also terrifying and horrible. Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that this simply wasn't meant to be.

A familiar voice suddenly spoke. "Do you want to see your room?" Don had returned from the kitchen, carrying two hot mugs of freshly made coffee. He offered one to his brother who gladly accepted.

"Can we go outside?" Charlie asked. For a reason he hadn't yet discovered, he didn't like being inside. The walls always seemed to be moving in on him, locking him inside with no exit. It even became more difficult to breathe. Charlie simply wasn't used to this house, to this environment where everyone looked at him as if he were a present.

"Sure," Don smiled. He was oblivious to the turmoil going on inside his brother's head.

When they walked onto the short, green grass, Charlie couldn't help but smile as well. He felt free here, and at peace. He had always liked gardens, but as he now gazed around, he found that nothing fit. The flowers were wrong, even the trees. The smell was different and Charlie wished he could turn back the clock a few days, he wished he could just wake up and nothing had changed in his life.

How could he call this his home once again? He didn't know anything and he was a stranger here. Don might be his brother, Alan his father, but they were still strangers.

"I know this is difficult," Don said, turning to look at his brother, "but this is your home. You are home again."

Yet, all that Charlie could think was the exact opposite. This wasn't his home, it hadn't been his home since he was seven and this could never again be his home.

**AN: And the plot thickens. Is Colby right? Should they just accept Charlie back or will troubles arise? And how about Charlie? He clearly feels not at home, but what does it all mean? **

**You'll have (a few) answers soon! Oh, and don't forget to feed the review-monster! :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own). Thanks to all those that left me a review! I know the notion of a kidnapped Charlie has been done a million times before and I try to make into something fresh and original. I hope I'm succeeding!

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 6**

-o-o-

One week later.

-o-o-

It seemed that this was the first moment where Charlie could breathe again. For a week, he felt like he had been watched every second of the day, whether it was by Alan or by Don. Even Colby, David and Megan had been with him for hours sometimes. Charlie would have found it odd, but, even though he only knew Don for one week, he already understood he was the kind of brother that was overly protective. It was he who had ordered his FBI-colleagues to come by every other day.

Now, Alan was out shopping for groceries and Don was at his office. Charlie was alone for what must be the first time. The idea that no one was around to disturb him, was strangely soothing. He had gotten to know the house perfectly and so he entered Don's bedroom, not having set a foot inside before.

There was only one reason he was in here and that was the small laptop sitting on Don's desk which stood before a large window. This gave Charlie the perfect sight to the street. He would immediately see when either Alan or Don would be arriving home.

As soon as he had hacked into Don's computer, getting into his personal files proved to be more difficult. Apparently, Don had secured every file quite meticulously. That was probably protocol since this laptop could fall into the hands of criminals. _Or in his hands_, Charlie thought.

Still, it only took Charlie ten minutes to find the file he needed and to open it. After all, hacking into the files of his brother seemed like a child's play in comparison to hacking into online bank-accounts. Charlie knew what his task was and so he send the file to a different server, making sure that he masked all the traces. When he was done with that, he was sure that no one could trace this back to him or to Don's computer.

As he switched of the laptop, his eye fell upon a man standing on the opposite side of the street. His blond curls seemed to be floating around his face, his slender figure masking the muscles underneath his shirt. Charlie couldn't believe that _he_ was here.

Charlie quickly rushed downstairs and hurried through the front door. When crossing the street, he instantly noticed the dark gaze on Sullivan's face. His presence didn't frighten Charlie, that thought alone was ridiculous. The thought of what he could do to Don or Alan was more terrifying.

"Hello, Charlie,"he said, "_Charlie Eppes_." The name dripped of his tongue like acid.

"That is my name," Charlie said, his arms crossed before his chest, "but it's just a name, Peter. It means nothing."

"Really," Peter took a step closer towards Charlie, "because you seem at home here."

"This isn't my home," Charlie dropped his hands. He should have known that this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Then again, why would Peter be here? What did surprise Charlie, however, was the coldness in his own voice, but he found it strangely familiar. "And perhaps you're right about the name," Charlie grinned a crooked grin, "Call me _Alex Powell_."

The little color that Peter had vanished. "I'm here for an update," he was suddenly all business, "you do remember that you are only here for a job, right?"

"I haven't forgotten," Charlie said, "and I have just send the file to the Boss. He'll be very pleased."

"Good," Peter turned his head a little and spit onto the asphalt of the street, "because I'm sick of this. I don't even understand why the Boss goes through so much trouble."

"You want vengeance." Charlie now understood what the darkness in Peter's eyes meant.

"They killed my brother," Peter's voice was low and menacing, "he was my brother and the FBI will pay."

"Let me tell you this," Charlie's eyes darkened, his lips pulled into a threatening curve, "you won't touch my family."

It was Peter who grinned now. "Your family?" A laugh escaped his throat, sounding more like a growl. "_We_ are your family, Alex. You are a Powell, not an Eppes. You'll never be an Eppes!"

Charlie couldn't help hearing truth in Peter's words. "They are still my blood," he eventually said, anger filling his voice, "you won't hurt them, not on my watch."

"Why don't we find out what the Boss wants?" Peter took a step closer towards Charlie.

"Don't do this," Charlie said, the anger having turned into a cold despair. "This will only lead to trouble."

"Are you afraid?" Peter asked. He gazed at the house across the street, Charlie's house. "The things I could do-"

Charlie's hand propelled forward, his fist hitting Peter's noise hard and fast. Both men stumbled back, one grabbing for his face that began to turn red due to the blood and the other cradling his fist, its knuckles white and hot with pain. Anger was now the only emotion that hung between them.

A familiar voice suddenly sounded. "Charlie!" Don seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Charlie hadn't even heard his car pull into the street.

Charlie knew he had to act quickly though. He took another step back, his head turning to his brother, his eyes wide and his breathing fast and irregular. "Stop him!" Charlie was surprised by the panic in his own voice. "Stop him, Don!"

And then he watched, with a hint of amusement which he knew no one could see but Peter, as Don arrested Peter Sullivan. Charlie did not feel bad at all since he had never liked Peter. This did mean, however, that things had been set in motion and that time was running out. Charlie knew he would have to act quickly now.

**AN: Well, I guess that gives you some answers. What it all means and where it all leads to is still a big mystery! For you that is because, obviously, I know what will happen next ;)**

**Thanks for having read this chapter! The next one will arrive soon!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary**: After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN**: (Any and all mistakes are completely my own). Thanks to those that left a review. They are what keep me writing :)

**- All Fall Down -**

**Chapter 7**

Don sucked in a deep breath. On the other side sat Peter Sullivan. He had been the man the FBI had been hunting in the first place. None of them could ever have anticipated how big this case would have turned out eventually. Don certainly couldn't have foreseen that he would have his little brother back. It seemed, however, that the end was not nearly in sight and that made Don feel oddly uncomfortable.

Before Peter sat Megan and Colby. They were going to lead the interrogation since Don was not allowed anywhere near Peter. He was too emotionally involved and the last thing they wanted was for Peter to walk out of here due to a technical error. Don wanted to be inside that room, but he also wanted Peter punished for his previous crimes and so he was content with standing behind the glass. Here, he could watch Peter's every reaction.

It was Colby who spoke first as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the smooth table surface. "Why were you at the Eppes' home?" he asked.

Don could only see the backs of Colby and Megan, but he could picture their faces perfectly. He had been working with them for years after all and they had done plenty of interrogations together. Don was convinced that it would only be a matter of time before Peter would start talking.

Peter remained calm, however, his gaze shifting between Megan and Colby, his eyes cold and distant. He shrugged carelessly. "Should I know that house? I was simply out for a walk when your colleague attacked me and arrested me."

"You were fighting with Charlie Eppes," Megan said, her voice stern. As the psychologist of the team, she was well aware of all the techniques that could be used to get a suspect talking. "Why?"

A grin crossed Peter's face, one that Don already hated. "Should I know that name?" Peter asked playfully. This man seemed so confident in everything he did and said. Don started realizing only now that it would take more than simple questions for this man to cooperate. Megan and Colby seemed to have come to the same conclusion and they shared a meaningful glance.

"Not cooperating will do you no good," Megan said menacing as she crossed her arms before her chest, "we have done a deeper background check on you and guess what we have found?"

Peter moved uncomfortably on his chair, his gaze fixed on Megan.

"You," Megan continued talking, "are wanted for robbery and murder in another state. What state was that again, agent Colby?"

Colby leaned back in his chair, his body language relaxed. "The one where they still have the death penalty," he said. Don could hear a hint of amusement in Colby's voice, but he knew that was all part of the little show he and Megan were playing before Peter. They needed to get him scared.

"I won't betray the Boss," Peter quickly said, stressed now. He started fidgeting with the edge of his shirt only to realize the mistake he was making. He quickly leaned back in his seat, his lips pressed together. "I want a deal," Peter said, "because I can tell you something much more interesting."

"Spill," Colby ordered.

Peter grinned again. "So we have a deal?"

"Depends on what your next words are," Megan said.

Don carefully watched every detail of Peter's face. He needed to see if he was speaking the truth or not. Whatever Peter would say next, Don was sure that it would not be nice to hear. Peter leaned forward, his voice oddly soft as if he wanted to make sure only Megan and Colby could hear him. Of course, Don would be able to hear every word coming out of his mouth.

"You are being betrayed," Peter said, "but I wouldn't feel too bad about it. He can play anyone."

Don could feel his heart race inside his chest. He had not expected Peter to tell them this.

"Who are you talking about?" Colby demanded to know. He leaned forward, his body language tense. For a short moment, Don thought that it seemed Colby had seen this coming.

"I am talking about Charlie Eppes," Peter grinned dirty.

Don's lips parted in shock and surprise. This was low, even by Peter's standards. Did he really think that this would get him a deal? Why on earth would Charlie betray them? He had been reunited with his family. Don fought the urge to burst into the interrogation room, but his hands were balled into fists.

There was a short silence in the room and Peter's grin disappeared. "Did you honestly think that you found him by accident after all those years?" There was pure astonishment in his voice. "Waw," a chuckle escaped his lips, "he really has you all wrapped around his little finger, hasn't he?"

"You are saying," Megan chose her words with care, "that Charlie is _working with you_?"

"Oh, no," Peter gazed into Megan's eyes, "we can't stand each other. Charlie and James were good friends, but I hate that little genius."

"What this plan?" Colby asked. "Why send Charlie to us?"

Don couldn't understand that Colby and Megan were actually listening to this story. It could not be true. It was clear that Peter was spinning a ridiculous story to get that deal and it seemed Don was the only one smart enough to understand this.

"It was all Charlie's idea," Peter corrected Colby, "so technically, we did not send him. The FBI was closing in on us and it was like a miracle that Don Eppes was leading the case. The Boss informed Charlie who Don was to him and Charlie immediately thought of this little plan."

"What plan exactly?" Colby was losing his patience.

Peter grinned, gloating as he knew he had control over this conversation. "Charlie was reunited with his family, but not for long. He had one task; get his hands on our case-files and send them to the Boss." Peter sighed deeply. "He has completed this and now he won't be much longer with his _loving family_." The words dripped of his tongue like acid. "The Boss simply has to change his ways once he knows what information the FBI has on us and then you guys are back to square one."

"And why are you telling us all this?" Megan asked.

"Because," Peter rolled his eyes, "I can't stand that bastard Charlie. He thinks he is so important- well, he is rather important. The Boss protects him and we can't touch him. That's why I am telling you this."

"You hope we will catch Charlie," Colby said.

"Well," Peter laughed, "you could try. He is still a genius and by now, he will be long gone. Charlie never trusted his family, you know why?"

"Please," Colby said with sarcasm in his voice, "enlighten us."

"Because they are not his family," Peter explained, "they share blood and that's it. Charlie is completely loyal to the Boss."

"Really," Megan said.

"After all," Peter became very serious suddenly, "the Boss did raise Charlie himself. They are as close as a father and son."

**AN: Another chapter is done. I hope this provided some answers :) The next chapter will arrive soon. What will happen to Charlie? How will Don cope with this? Many, many questions...**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary:** After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN:** (Any and all mistakes are completely my own.) I want to thank everyone for their patience. I haven't updated this story in ages so I won't be surprised to find no one is interested anymore. Let me know if you guys still want to see this story completed.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and faved this story. It really means a lot. I didn't mean to disappoint anyone!

**- All Falls Down -**

**Chapter 8**

The picture in his hand was one Charlie had never seen before. It was taken a day or so before he had been kidnapped and showed a laughing Don holding a baseball bat and a smiling Charlie whose little hand was gripping a baseball. The youngest Eppes brother was once again reminded of his long lost childhood. More memories surfaced as he stayed in this house, but he refused to pay them any attention.

Ignoring them showed to be difficult, however.

It didn't matter in the end. Only regret and pain would fill Charlie's heart and he needed to stay focused and in control. Gently, he set down the picture on his desk and turned around to look at the rest of his room. Naked walls, a neatly made bed, a closed closet. Nothing revealed that an adult man lived here. It was exactly as it should be.

Charlie picked up his bag holding his few clothes and belongings and walked out of the room. Since Peter Sullivan had been arrested, all had been set in motion so quickly and Charlie knew he had to act quickly or all would be lost. Now that only Alan was with him – he expected Don back any minute now - Charlie had the perfect opportunity to escape these suffocating walls.

Before exiting through the front door, he grabbed Alan's car-keys and made sure he had his cellphone with him. Everything was planned perfectly and Charlie knew nothing could go wrong or Don and his team would find him within the week. _No_, he thought,_ it is best if I simply disappear_.

Since Alan was upstairs in the bathroom, Charlie grabbed the opportunity and so the young Eppes, who stubbornly called himself Alex Powell, got into his biological – blood was their only link - father's car and started the engine. It had been fun meeting his brother and father, but now it was time to return to his _other_ family.

He was doing this to protect them, _all_ of them, but he couldn't help feel a sting deep inside his chest when he turned onto the interstate.

He couldn't lie to himself.

He would miss Don and Alan.

-o-o-

Don sighed until he felt his lungs were about to collapse. The information thrown at him was bombastic and he had no idea how to deal with it. Peter's words echoed through his mind. '_The Boss did raise Charlie himself. They are as close as a father and son_.' What was he supposed to make of that?

Charlie had lied to him, to all of them. He had infiltrated their houses, gained their trust and now he had thrown it all back into their faces. The most horrific picture of Charlie laughing and smirking behind their backs flickered before his eyes. Charlie had betrayed them, he had lied to them and hurt them.

Bile rose in Don's throat and he swallowed heavily. He had left him alone with Alan which was a scaring thought. He wondered if his brother would actually be capable of hurting their father. No, _his_ father. Did Charlie even care for Alan? Did he feel any kind of affection for him?

Disappointment and hurt filled Don's heart, but he refused to allow his emotions to be displayed in his eyes and face. As an FBI-agent, he had been trained to remain in control in any kind of situation. He had not been trained for this, however.

Silently, he watched how Megan and Colby rose from their seats and exited the interrogation room, leaving behind Peter who appeared faintly smug. Don wanted to enter and beat that expression from his face. _He was definitely not in control_.

Their was of course, that other possibility. Peter could have made it all up. His every word could be a lie and Charlie could be completely innocent. Peter was in a difficult position and it was known that a suspect sometimes came up with the most ridiculous excuses.

However, Don had to admit that it did make some sense. Charlie had been very quick in adjusting to his new life. In forgetting about his old life and coping with the hard situation he had been living in. It had all gone a little too quick.

Turning to look at his two colleagues approaching him with care, he watched them with big eyes. Their thoughts were displayed openly in their eyes, '_How could he_?'

"He's telling the truth, isn't he?" Don hated that slight tremble in his tone.

Megan slowly nodded. "I think so. Don, you have to send a team to your house. If not to arrest Charlie, then to bring him into witness protection."

Don tiredly rubbed a hand across his face. "I can't get him into witness protection," he sighed, "not if what Peter says is true. I have arrest him, interrogate him." He dreaded speaking those words.

It was then that his phone rang and Don recognized his father's number. His heart skipped a beat when thinking of all the possibilities this call could mean, but he pushed aside those thoughts and answered, "Hello?"

Alan's voice sounded alarmed, "He's gone, Donnie, Charlie had taken his things, his clothes and my car, and left. Why would he do that? What's going on?"

"Slow down," Don told his father, trying to understand the words who were glued together. He closed his eyes and tried to remain focused, "are you saying that Charlie left or that he's missing?"

A short silence. "He left."

"_Damn it_," Don cursed.

Megan and Colby instantly understood what was happening.

"I'll put out an APB," Colby said before hurrying away.

"Alright, Dad," Don continued, "Stay where you are. I'm coming home right now. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Charlie wasn't who he claimed he was. He played us and used us. I promise I'll explain when I return home."

"But he's my Charlie," Alan argued, unable to cope, "he's my son. He would never do this, not to us. Don, you must be mistaken because-"

"I'm sorry," Don repeated, "I will explain everything, Dad, really, but I have to go now. I'll see you in an hour, understand?"

"Yes," Alan's voice was soft and – strangely - fragile, "come home quickly, Donnie."

-o-o-

Charlie sighed. He knew that, in the end, he would end back up here again. He hadn't thought it would all go so quickly, however, and he certainly had been prepared for such an abrupt goodbye – if you could even call it a goodbye. Charlie had prepared himself for a few weeks with the Eppes family, which should have granted him enough time to get to know them properly.

A few months ago, he hadn't even known about this truth, but he was glad he did. He always did feel strangely out of place and now he had gotten an explanation. The Boss wasn't really his father. Not only had he learned of that truth, he had been given a chance to meet them. Sure, the Boss had other plans for him, but Charlie hadn't cared at the moment. Meeting his real family had been exiting and new.

It had all been taken away from him so quickly and he blamed Peter Sullivan. How James could be his brother was beyond anyone's comprehension. Peter was cruel, self-absorbed and egoistic. James on the other hand had been caring and a friend to Charlie. In his eyes, the wrong brother had died.

The coldness of his own thoughts surprised Charlie, but he hadn't the time to reflect on that realization. He was about to enter a majestic mansion where the Boss now resided and Charlie felt a pressure fall back onto his shoulders. Within these walls, everyone watched him. Not in a threatening way, but almost in an concerning way.

The Boss was very worried for him, very protective – _very overprotective_ - and Charlie forced himself to see it as a positive characteristic of the man. He should feel lucky to have such a privileged position in this household. If it wasn't for the Boss, he would long have been beaten to death or something along those lines. There was just no way Charlie would be able to defend himself against a dozen strong men with tattooed arms and beards to scare you off.

The mansion before him would now become his new home, if only because the Boss lived there. When that thought crossed Charlie's mind, he knew he was cheating himself. He had never felt completely at ease in any house and even though it had all grown familiar, he was fully aware that this, like all previous houses, wasn't his home.

He had left his home a few hours before and that thought pained him.

_There hadn't been another option_, he told himself.

After entering the house and making his way through the hallway, he avoided any eye-contact with the guards, criminals and - he had to be honest – murderers. He had always hated their presence, but the Boss had assured him it was necessary. Who was he to question the Boss's motives?

He quickly found his way to the Boss' office and saw that the high, wooden doors were closed. Charlie didn't bother to knock and swung them open to see the Boss sitting behind his desk. The office was grand with expensive furniture filling the chamber. One broad desk stood in the middle, behind it a high window that allowed all the sunlight to enter easily.

The Boss rose from his seat when looking at Charlie, his arms spread wide and his eyes speaking only of kindness.

"Alex, you've returned," he smiled, small wrinkles forming around his eyes. As always, his voice was reserved and polite with only a hint of warmth. The occasions of true affection were only for the rare weekend where no guards were around. "It's great to see you again. I have been worrying about you."

Charlie threw him a faint smile. He might not feel at home in this house, but he did feel welcome and safe when in the presence of the Boss, of his _father_. "It's nice to be back," he told him, fully knowing it was only half the truth, "though a little earlier than planned."

"I've heard," the Boss shook his head in disapproval, "Peter will be dealt with in time. He nearly destroyed your operation, but I trusted you, Alex, and I knew you would bring it to a marvellous end. Now tell me," he sat down again, motioning to Charlie to sit across the desk, "have you met them?"

Charlie nodded when he sat down, noticing an honest curiosity in the Boss's voice. "Yes, they were nice people. I should thank you for giving me the chance to meet them. I owe it all to you."

The Boss chuckled softly. "As long as you remember who your real family is, Alex. You might not share my blood, but you're my son and I could not deny you the chance to meet your family. Despite what many people think, I'm not cruel."

_Oh, but you are_. Charlie felt the words in his mind as venom. Only someone who was a bastard would send a 'son' to meet their real family only to snatch them away again. "All those years ago, you took me away from them. I always thought you were my real father until you told me the truth a few weeks ago. Why did you take me?"

These questions had only recently surfaced and Charlie felt very stupid for not having them thought earlier in spite of his high IQ. When he had just learned the truth, he had felt anger...anger towards the Eppes though he couldn't explain it at the time. It had all been very confusing. Now he knew he shouldn't be angry with them since they had not taken him. The Boss had taken him, had changed his life and future.

_How could he?_

The polite smile never faltered from old man's face. "I took you under my wing because I could see your potential," he explained, "you were so young and already so brilliant. I had to save you from that smothering environment. Everything you are, Alex, all your courage, strength and brilliance is because I made you into that person. I am telling you this because I trust you. Because – believe me – you _are_ my son and I do love you."

Charlie was taken by surprise. He had not expected those words to flow from the Boss's lips. The real question was; could he trust it? The Boss did raise him, protected and cared of him. Who would he be without him? Charlie'd never know. All that he knew was that his future was shaped and there was no turning back. The Boss was all he had and he had to put his trust in him.

"I love you, too."

The Boss flashed him a brilliant smile. "Back to business," he turned serious in the blink of an eye, "the documents you sent us have been analysed and they already proved very useful. With your algorithm, three more back accounts have been hacked and the FBI does not have a clue yet. However..."

Charlie felt himself tense.

"Alex, you know your place in this world," he continued, "you know who you are and where you belong."

With confusion in his eyes, Charlie nodded.

"The situation has gotten out of hand, you see, and Peter has talked. Your brother knows of your betrayal and since he's FBI, he won't rest until he has found you. I don't blame him, everyone who meets you grows instantly attached to you for some reason. You have that vibe, Alex, that pull on people." The Boss leaned back in his chair and locked gazes with him. "I'm afraid if we don't stop Don Eppes, he will find you and take you away from me. He won't hesitate to eliminate me in the process and everyone else in this house. He has already managed to get James killed, do you honestly want to risk any other lives?"

The way the Boss played with his words astonished Charlie. After everything that happened, he was planning on pinning this on him? This was not his fault? If anyone was to blame for their plan falling apart, it was Peter. For what must have been the umpteenth time, Charlie cursed that name.

"I don't want to get anyone killed," he answered truthfully.

"Of course not," the Boss quickly said, "you're a kind man, _too _kind at time, but I know you're willing to protect your family to every extend, aren't you? Don is threatening us, but I need your consent. As your father, allow me manage this matter, to clean up this mess."

His lips were parted, but Charlie didn't manage to utter a sound.

"Alex?"

"You want to kill him?"

A short silence hung heavily in the chamber. "It is necessary. I would never reach for such extreme measures if I knew it wasn't so. You can trust me, Alex."

"How dare you!" Charlie shouted the words before he even realized. Jumping from his chair, he leaned heavily on the desk and gazed into the Boss's grey eyes. Before, they had shown kindness, but now they appeared cold. "You send me to them, to Don and Alan, and now you want to kill them?"

"Only Don, son, and it is _necessary_."

Charlie wanted to ban the word 'necessary' from their lexicon. Hatred boiled deep inside of him, a force he hadn't know he possessed. "I get to meet my brother, bond with him and now you're going to rip him away from me? I could have lived knowing that he was out there, safe, but I can't allow this to happen. I refuse to allow it! Father, please, I beg you."

Compassion filled the Boss's eyes, but Charlie refused to believe it was sincere. "I understand, Alex" he sighed, "honestly, I do. I knew it was a bad idea from the beginning, but the plan sounded completely foolproof."

"Until Peter messed with it."

"I have to deal with the repercussions."

"No," Charlie straightened his back and shook his head, "no, you won't kill him. Father, don't do this."

"I do not have any other choice."

-o-o-

When Charlie closed the door behind, locking himself away from the others in this house, he instantly searched his pockets for his phone. His conversation with his father still echoed through his mind and the words stung painfully in his heart. He had only known Don for a few days, but he had grown attached to him none the less.

He could not allow anyone to hurt his brother, no matter how much the Boss meant to protect him. This was just cruel, nothing more and nothing less.

Finding his phone, he dialled the right number and waited for a voice to answer him.

It did. "Don Eppes, who is this?"

Charlie realized he had never given his number to his brother, at least not _this_ number. He sucked in a deep breathe before speaking, "It's me, Alex- I mean Charlie. I'm sorry, Don, really I am."

"Where are you, Charlie?" Don's voice sounded stressed and alarmed, but still in control.

"I can't tell you," Charlie sighed. No matter how much he felt betrayed by his father, he refused to betray him in return. "But I'm warning you to stay away. Don't try to find me or the Boss. Just...Stay. Away. You'll only get yourself killed."

"What is going on?"

"Do you hear me, Don," Charlie knew his words were harsh, but he needed to get the message out as quickly as possible, "drop the case or you'll find yourself in deep trouble. I won't be able to stop it from happening so, please, forget about me. I'm sorry for everything, tell Alan I'm so very sorry."

"_Charlie_?"

But Charlie ended the call and threw his phone against the wall where it smashed into small pieces. All that he could hope for was that Don would heed his words. However, if he had learned anything in the past few days, it was that Don was stubborn.

_Very stubborn._

**AN: A long chapter, but I didn't want to return to this chapter with only 1500 or so words. I hope this makes up – at least a little – for the long time without updates. But you can see I haven't forgotten about the story!**

**My question: have you forgotten about the story? Do you still want me to update and finish this story? Let me know...**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**Summary:** After having been missing for years, Don finds his little brother Charlie again, though nothing is as it seems. Can Don truly trust Charlie and can he save him before everything is lost?

**AN:** (Any and all mistakes are completely my own.) I am very happy to see people do want to see this story finished. Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm hoping this chapter won't disappoint either. I'm writing like the wind and will finish this story in one go. No more breaks or weeks without updates. That's a promise.

**- All Falls Down -**

**Chapter 9**

Don gazed at the empty room before him. Strangely, it didn't appear any different from yesterday. There was nothing to reveal Charlie had been living here the past few days. Don was unsure whether that made him feel angry or disappointed.

_Disappointed with who exactly?_

With himself because he hadn't seen any of the signs while he should have? Charlie never did reveal much about his childhood, about his emotions. Should that not have told him the truth about his younger brother? Had he refused to see the evidence of Charlie's eminent betrayal?

Or was he disappointed with Charlie because he had played them so easily, like puppets on strings? Was that all they had been to the man? _Puppets_ without feelings of their own? Did Charlie – or should he call him Alex? - even care he had hurt them all so deeply?

His ringing phone called him from his thoughts and Don inhaled deeply. He didn't recognize the number, but he answered anyway, thinking it might be someone from the Bureau. The last thing he wanted was have some idiot demand an explanation about the current situation. "Don Eppes. Who is this?"

"It's me, Alex- I mean Charlie. I'm sorry, Don, really I am."

Not in a hundred years had he expected to hear that voice again. His eyes widened and he spun around, looking at his father who pushed back tears at seeing the empty room. His fragility was something Don had never witnessed before, but he assumed he looked about the same. He felt broken on the inside and he didn't know how to heal himself again.

Catching Charlie and demanding an explanation could be the solution.

Knowing the chances of actually getting an answer were slim, he posed the question anyway, "Where are you, Charlie?"

"I can't tell you," Charlie sighed, "but I'm warning you to stay away. Don't try to find me or the Boss. Just...Stay. Away. You'll only get yourself killed."

The words stung more than Don cared to admit. He didn't feel easily threatened, least of all by his little brother who he really should stop calling 'his little brother'. Charlie was anything but little. Damn him if he thought he would just let him go. However, he did spot some distress in the young Eppes' voice which caused him to worry.

He hated himself for it. "What is going on?"

"Do you hear me, Don," Charlie's voice grew urgent, "drop the case or you'll find yourself in deep trouble. I won't be able to stop it from happening so, please, forget about me. I'm sorry for everything, tell Alan I'm so very sorry."

Hearing him say their father's name made Don's fingers itch and he balled his free hand into a fist. An apology wasn't going to make everything alright. Least of all, they wouldn't go around and forgive him suddenly. Charlie's action were severe, unforgivable, and Don wanted to shake some sense into that boy. For a genius, he did say some idiot things.

"Charlie?" He needed more answers, more time to deal with this, but the call disconnected and Don suddenly felt completely alone. Slowly, he turned to look into his father's eyes who carried hope. "I don't know what's happening," Don admitted reluctantly, "but I'll find him, Dad. I promise."

-o-o-

The knock on his door made him jump. His phone still lay scattered across the floor and bed and he hurried to clean up the mess. Another knock sounded, this time more urgent and Charlie felt relief when hearing a familiar voice.

"Alex?" It was John, a close friend to the Boss who always knew exactly what was happening in their household. It was a strange word to be used in this context, but that was how the Boss kept calling their organisation. _A household_. "Alex, are you alright?"

Having pushed all the little fragments of the phone underneath his bed, Charlie hurried to open the door. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. Anything he said to John would soon reach the Boss' ears. "Hello, John," he greeted the middle aged man as he opened his door. He motioned for him to enter and so he did.

"I heard about your talk with the Boss," John sighed, "it must be difficult."

Charlie's breath hitched inside his chest. Difficult was most certainly an understatement. He had just been told they wanted to murder his brother. Charlie couldn't allow it to happen, not in a hundred years and he was willing to go through great lengths to protect his family. His _true_ family.

"I won't allow it," he spat, "please, you can talk some sense into the Boss. He trusts you and if you tell him to leave Don alone, then he might listen." Charlie suddenly became aware of how weak he sounded and he quickly straightened his back. Showing any sign of weakness would not bode well for him.

John shook his head, moving to sit down on the bed in the corner. "I have spoken to him," he said, "but he won't budge. He has a point though, Alex. Your brother won't stop until he's found you and therefore he risks our entire operation. We might all go to jail in the end if we don't stop him."

A dreadful sense of foreboding filled Charlie. He belonged to that 'we'. Had he not hacked a dozen bank-accounts? Wasn't he an accomplice to another dozen crimes just by knowing about them and not reporting them? He quickly shook those thoughts away since they didn't matter for the moment. Saving Don was what mattered.

"He won't find me," Charlie said eventually, "I warned him not to."

John's eyes became nothing more than two thin lines and Charlie instantly understood his mistake.

"You contacted him? Alex, tell me you did not do such a stupid thing."

"He can't trace the call," Charlie quickly argued, "and I destroyed the phone. I can trust you, John, can't I?" This was the truth. If the Boss wasn't around to protect him, he appointed John for the task. He knew the older man for years already and he was like an uncle to him.

He watched John sigh heavily. "You're asking a lot of me, kid," he said, "you shouldn't have contacted him."

"I won't do it again."

"You've grown attached to him, haven't you," there lay no accusation in John's voice, "it's alright, I understand how torn you must feel. We are asking you to watch your brother die. You can confide me and I promise I won't tell a word to the Boss."

"I only met him a few days ago," Charlie admitted, feeling relieved that he could actually share this with someone, "but I had a feeling I already knew him my entire life. He was just like that boy from my dream I had when I was a child. Strong, confident and most of all, stubborn. He trusted me and I threw it back in his face."

"You feel guilty," John understood.

"Of course I feel guilty," Charlie exclaimed, "he's my brother."

John's eyebrows rose to a new hight.

Charlie quickly added, "But that doesn't matter anymore. I know my place in this world and it's here. I just don't want anyone to hurt him because of me. I've put him through enough, don't you agree?"

-o-o-

The Boss held a phone to his ear, but it was completely silent in the room. John waited for him to end his call and moved to sit across the desk. His conversation with Alex had shed much light onto many things and he needed to talk to the Boss about it. He never wanted to betray Alex, but that boy needed protection.

Protection against himself.

The Boss put down his phone and turned to focus on his old friend. "Have you spoken to him?"

John nodded. "I have and I understand him. He's torn between two world; ours and theirs. I told you from the beginning that sending him to his real family would cause trouble."

"I know, I know," the Boss waved away the words, "but I couldn't deny him the chance of meeting his family."

"You mean you needed someone close to the Eppes in order to get into the FBI files."

A dirty smirk spread across the Boss' face. "I thought he'd manage," he said, "but he has grown to care for them. What did he tell you, John?"

John inhaled deeply. This was not betraying Alex, he thought, no, this was taking care of him. He chose his words carefully. "He won't ever forgive you if you kill Don. He's forgotten his place and I believe you can fix that by showing him just how much you care for him. He believes they are his family now and you have to rectify that." He shifted in his chair, leaning forward. "And you have to act quickly."

The Boss frowned deeply. "What do you mean?"

"He called Don," John sighed, "told him to stay away. He said he destroyed his phone and that no one will be able to trace the call, but he might try and reach out to his brother again to warn him. This situation needs to be handled now and with care."

"I understand."

"You'll hurt him," John continued, "but given time, I believe he'll forgive you. You are his father after all and you are the only one who stands between him and a dozen criminals who would like to have their way with our precious genius."

"Thank you, John," the Boss smiled sincerely, "I know it wasn't easy for you to go and talk to Alex on my order."

"I'm not betraying him," John stressed his words, "I am merely trying to help him."

-o-o-

Charlie pushed back tears as he made his way back to his room. Was there no one he could trust in this entire house? He thought John cared for him, that he could trust him, but Charlie now knew he had been stupid to forget he was loyal to the Boss in the first place. _Everyone_ is loyal to the Boss.

Having heard John and the Boss talk about killing Don, Charlie had felt an instant rush of anger flush him. How they thought he would one day forgive them was beyond his comprehension. This was Don, this was his brother.

Did they not know him at all?

He would never agree with murder, certainly not with Don's. His anger was accompanied with disbelief, filling him with strength and power. He refused to let anyone lay one finger on his brother. He had enough and felt sick of being betrayed by those he held dearest and suddenly, he could understand exactly how Don and Alan felt.

Closing his door behind him and locking it carefully, he pulled out a phone he had snatched from one of the criminals currently residing in the house. He didn't even know who owned the phone, but it didn't matter.

Having memorized Don's number by heart, he quickly dialled the numbers and hoped he would get a quick answer.

In the hallway, footsteps rushed towards his door while men shouted, sounding extremely angry. He ignored them, however, trying to push out the noise. _Come on, Don, answer your damn phone_.

Finally! "Hello?"

"It's me," his voice trembled as he spoke and he pinched the bridge of his nose, ordering himself to stay focused, "Don, you must believe me when I say that I never wanted any of this."

There was a short silence. "Why are you calling?"

"Because I can't just stand by," Charlie whispered into the phone, listening how others tried to enter his room by knocking forcefully onto his door. The wood began to budge, but Charlie still had a few minutes. Time was running out, though.

"What is that noise?" Don demanded to know.

Charlie turned away from the door. "I want to protect you," he said truthfully, "because you _are_ my brother and I _do_ care for you. I'm sorry for everything and I hope you'll forgive me one day."

"Charlie?"

The door burst open, revealing two very angry men, followed by an outraged John.

Charlie spun on his heels to face his opponents and he barely managed to speak while looking into John's usually kind eyes that now stood wide with shock. Slowly, John shook his head, but Charlie closed his eyes, unable to look at the others. "_Julian_ _Powell_."

And the next thing he felt, was a fist smash into his jaw before falling into a darkness he welcomed.

**AN: Writing this chapter was so much fun for me. The turmoil in Don's head, Charlie feeling torn between two worlds and having to make a choice... Fun. Fun. Fun. I hope it was enjoyed and my apologies for the cliffie :)**

**Review?**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**AN:** (Any and all mistakes are completely my own.) A shorter chapter now, but I felt the story needed a breathed. Much has happened in the last two chapters and this will slow it down again, but don't worry! Not for long. Action and drama are on the way.

**- All Falls Down -**

**Chapter 10**

Don burst into the interrogation room where Peter Sullivan almost dropped from his chair when seeing the raging FBI agent enter. He pulled back his chair and sat down, never loosing eye contact with the suspect. He wasn't sure how he looked at the moment, but he assumed he was a rather terrifying sight since Peter's face had turned grayish suddenly.

"Talk," Don ordered, folding his hands on the table surface, "tell us everything you know."

There was a short silence before Peter cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. "I already told you everything-"

"Bullshit."

More colour drained from Peter's face.

"Tell me," an almost cruel smirk grew on Don's face, "have you ever heard of Julian Powell?"

Peter's breathing quickened, his shoulders dropping and his lips parting slightly. Stunned with Don's words, he seemed unable to utter any words.

"I know for a fact that he is the Boss," Don continued when it became clear Peter wasn't going to talk any time soon, "now that I have his name, it shouldn't be that difficult to find his location, his personal information and who works for him. If you really want to cut a deal, you tell me right now where exactly I can find him."

Peter swallowed heavily. "I really don't know. Last time I saw him and his household as he likes to call his men, they were preparing to move. It's a safety measure to prevent cops and FBI agents to track them down. I don't know where they moved to and I swear that's the truth."

"That's not helpful at all," Don said coldly, "and time is running out."

He cursed himself for speaking those words. It was too much information for Peter who could easily conclude something had happened. He needed to deviate Peter's thoughts and make sure he wouldn't be making any conclusions soon.

"I want Julian Powell more than I want you," Don said, "so if you can tell me anything useful, anything at all, I'll personally make sure you get the deal you want."

Peter's eyes became nothing more than two thing lines. "Something has happened," he said slowly, "something has unnerved you, hasn't it? _Something_...to do with Alex? Or should I call him Charlie?"

A humourless chuckle escaped Don's lips. "It doesn't matter. We have the name Julian Powell which will prove to be more than enough to find him in the end. I offered you a chance and you threw it away. Your loss, not mine." With those words, Don stood up and turned away, ready to exit the interrogation room when Peter's voice sounded.

"Alright!" He waited for Don to look at him. "I don't know where exactly the Boss might be, but he has a weakness for old mansions. The bigger and older they are, the more he desires them. You won't find him in any villa or in new parts of town. If he has a paper trail leading there, it will be fake."

"So where do you suggest we begin our search?"

"The lower towns," Peter said with determination, "specifically where little traffic passes. The Boss is literally allergic to priers."

-o-o-

A throbbing in the back of his head was the first thing Charlie became aware of. It was ominously present, reminding him what had happened before he had blacked out. Trying to move his hand towards the sore spot, he found his limbs surprisingly heavy and suddenly he realized everything was sore, especially the left side of his face.

A soft groan escaped his lips as he opened his eyes.

The Boss sitting besides him was the first thing Charlie noticed, followed by how he lay in his comfortable bed. He had expected to be locked in a small chamber in the basement, his hands tied together and a gag pushed in his mouth. That was standard procedure when someone had done something as severe as betraying the Boss.

"Welcome back," the Boss smiled genuinely.

It was the most terrifying sight Charlie had ever seen. Swallowing heavily, he found himself very thirsty, but he stayed silent and barely dared moving. His eyes swam across his room and found it empty. There were no guards, no criminal and no John.

The Boss continued, not noticing Charlie's stressed state. "Your head must be pounding," he said, reaching for a glass filled with water and a small pill that lay next to it, "here, take this. It's an aspirin."

Hesitantly, Charlie sat up, took the glass and pill and swallowed it down. He felt like a small child waiting for his father to burst into a fit of rage. "Why am I here?"

A confused frown filled the Boss' face, but it quickly melted away. "I see," he sighed, "you expected to wake with your hands tied and your mouth gagged."

Charlie nodded.

"Because, believe it or not, I care for you and I understand why you did it." The Boss leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms before his chest while looking directly into Charlie's brown eyes. "I should have seen it coming really, but I was blind and ignorant. If anyone is to blame, it is me."

The only explanation Charlie could think of for the Boss' words, were that they were a trap. Creating a false sense of security so that he would agree with Don's murder. _Don's murder_. The thought send shivers of anger down his spine. "Will you still do it," he asked softly, "kill Don, I mean."

A regretful sigh escaped the Boss' lips. "You left me no choice, Alex. You called him and told him my name! That was stupid and weak." It was the outburst Charlie had been waiting for. "I thought I could trust you, but you betrayed me. Now you haven't only betrayed your biological family, you've betrayed your real family as well."

All colour drained from Charlie's face. "I did it all for you, because I believed you were my father, someone who truly cared for me, but I'm just your toy, aren't I? You needed me, that's all. Everything about wanting to save me, offer me chances, that's the real lie in my life."

The tension slipped away from the Boss' shoulders and leaned closer towards Charlie, placing his hand carefully on his shoulder. "I do care for you," he said in a sincere voice, but Charlie refused to believe a word he spoke, "and you are my son. You've made a mistake, that's all and you'll have to rectify it, but, Alex, you are still under my protection. Why else wouldn't there be guards here, ready to toss you around the room like a puppet?"

Again, Charlie allowed his gaze to slide across his room. They were truly alone, but that could quickly change. "And by rectifying my mistake, you mean allow Don to be killed."

A sad smile played around the corner's of his lips. "Yes, Alex, that is what I mean. Do you care for me?"

Charlie bit down on his lip, thoroughly thinking about the question. After everything that had happened, he had grown attached to Don and Alan. But this was the man who had raised him, protected him and cared for him. He did care for the Boss and loved him as a father and Charlie despised himself for it.

"Yes," he admitted regretfully, "I love you, father."

"And I love you, too."

"What will happen to me?"

The Boss moved his hand from Charlie's shoulder and moved it down towards his hand, squeezing it warmly. "It will be difficult to trust you in the beginning, but I'm confident that you'll proof your loyalty to me again - and to the others," he added. "But you're free to walk around the house, though you should know everyone is watching you with a hawk's eye."

Charlie swallowed heavily.

"Besides," the Boss rose from his chair, "you still have work to do."

Charlie watched the Boss turn around, ready to leave the room, but there was still a question on his mind. "When?" He watched to Boss eye him over his shoulder. "When will it happen?"

"Tomorrow," the Boss simply said before leaving.

Charlie dropped back onto his bed. Tomorrow, someone would kill Don and Charlie only knew he had to stop it. However, with everyone watching him so closely, he was unsure how to help his brother. He no longer had a phone and his internet access would without doubt be very constricted.

Yet, there had to be something. Charlie would not let Don down another time. Only then did it dawn to him. If he wanted to help Don, he'd have to do something very risky and very stupid.

**AN: Review?**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything of Numb3rs.

**AN:** (Any and all mistakes are completely my own.) So I had a choice: either I post a short chapter straight after I got back from London (which was an awesome vacation!) or I let you guys wait a little while and post a longer (more exiting) one. I guess you now know which choice I made. I hope the wait was worth it! Enjoy!

**- All Falls Down -**

**Chapter 11**

Charlie sat at a desk, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard of a laptop, plundering the bank accounts of innocent people. He almost felt guilty doing so – something he hadn't experienced before - but he was left with no other choice this time; he was fully aware that the man passing his desk every other minute was sent to check on him and so Charlie couldn't do anything but hack into the accounts. He needed to remain unsuspicious.

It was a little past eight in the morning and time was running out. If he wanted to help Don – _save_ him – and he needed to act quickly. However, his internet access was restricted and any message he would send could be intercepted. There was also the fact that Charlie had no idea of knowing whether Don would actually receive the message.

And so, Charlie thought, he would have to speak to Don personally. Not only would he be able to warn Don about the Boss and his intentions, he would also strip the Boss from his most valuable asset since that was all Charlie was to Julian Powell. _An asset_.

Without Charlie's brain, the Boss had no way of making money this easily which would give the FBI a bigger chance of catching him. It still pained Charlie to think this because – even though he hated to admit this to himself - the Boss _was_ his father. However Charlie had grown a bigger sense of right and wrong and what they were doing was most definitely _wrong_.

The man who Charlie only knew as Tiny – could he have a more clichéd name? – walked past the desk again and Charlie carefully examined him. He had a round, red face and short curls, broad arms that showed muscle and a torso twice the size as his own. Around his waist hung a gun, full in view for Charlie to see since it was meant to scare him off - make him more compliant - but Charlie refused to feel intimated.

He did feel frightened, however. Frightened to be stuck in this situation forever, frightened to lose his brother to a man he was slowly starting to despise. And so, if he couldn't walk out of this house, he would have to force his way out of it.

"Tiny?" Charlie never took his hands from his keyboard, making sure to appear casual and calm.

Tiny turned to look at him, his blond curls jumping around his vigilant eyes. Everyone hated Charlie at this point. Not only had he gotten Peter Sullivan arrested, he had called the FBI and given them the name of the Boss. They all wanted to get their hands on the little genius if only to shake him until his world would never stop spinning.

"What?" Tiny barked.

"I need your help with something," Charlie said. He wanted to bit his lip or swallow heavily as he watched Tiny approach, but he managed to keep control over his body. "Look at this algorithm. Do you see anything wrong with it?"

Tiny rose one eyebrow before leaning towards the screen, his large hands resting on the table surface and his dark eyes focused on a series of numbers on the screen. Charlie, knowing that it was now or never, carefully moved his hand around Tiny's waist, his fingers folding around the gun.

"All I see," Tiny said roughly, "is a mixture of numbers."

"Thanks," Charlie smiled politely as Tiny straightened his back.

"For what?" His eyes suddenly flickered towards Charlie's hands, spotting a gun in them. A long moment passed in which both men held their breath, but the silence was quickly broken. "Don't be stupid, Alex, you'll kill yourself so give it back."

Charlie did swallow heavily now, shaking his head while rising from his chair. He moved away from Tiny who slowly raised his hands as if defeated.

"Not a sound," Charlie wanted to sound in control, but his voice came out shaking none the less. At least he knew how to hold a gun and fire it. It was one of the many perks of being raised by the Boss himself; he'd spent many afternoons at shooting ranges. "Get back!"

"Alex," Tiny stepped away from the desk, never losing eye contact with the genius standing before him, "think about what you're doing."

"I am doing what I should have done a long time ago," Charlie breathed. Looking at Tiny, he realised that the large man would never allow him to step unharmed from this room. He wasn't the kind of man that was simply defeated. Knowing he had to act swiftly, Charlie aimed the gun at Tiny's knee and fired. The shot echoed between the walls, as did Tiny's cry of pain, but Charlie didn't hesitate.

He turned on his heels and ran from the room.

He never looked back and kept on running, knowing exactly which hallways to use if he wanted to avoid detection. Hurried and panicked footsteps sounded all around him, but Charlie avoided running into someone and somehow he reached the front door of the mansion with strange ease.

With _too_ much ease.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder, finding the Boss standing on the last step of the stairs leading into the hallway, his arms crossed before his chest and a disappointing gaze in his eyes. "Alex," he sighed, shaking his head, "I thought I could trust you."

"And I thought you were my Dad," Charlie said, the gun still firmly in his hand, "I guess we both thought wrong."

The Boss lifted his hands as to show he was unarmed and defenceless. "Then shoot me," he said, taking that last step from the stairwell. His eyes were surprisingly empty, the disappointment already having vanished. It reminded Charlie once again how good an actor Julian Powell was. "Kill me because it is the only way you'll ever be free of me."

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not one of your criminals," he said with determination, "I don't enjoy hurting others."

"I know," the Boss sighed, "that's why I never forced it upon you. I let you do what you liked most – math – and still you turn your back on me. I gave you everything and you are throwing it right into my face."

"And I don't care," Charlie lowered his gun, his finger moving away from the trigger. The last thing he needed was to shoot himself in the foot. "I am walking out of this door and I'm never returning. It's all your fault, really, if you had just left Don alone. I would have stayed, I would have been happy to be your son, but not now, not anymore."

"If you want to save your brother," the Boss shifted his gaze towards the door, "you'll have to hurry."

"Who did you sent?"

The edges of the Boss' lips curved upwards. "The most capable one."

Charlie frowned, trying to think of anyone who the Boss would send in this situation. His mind came up empty, however, since all he could of was Don and reaching him in time.

Charlie didn't hesitate aymore. He spun around on his heels, opened the door and ran through it. Shouting erupted from within the house, but he ignored it – never looking back – and kept on running, not knowing how he could reach his brother in time. The only thing he knew was that he couldn't stop now. The Boss might have let him go five minutes ago, but he would still send some men after him.

And so Charlie ran.

Not looking back.

-o-o-

When Don woke early in the morning, he instantly remembered what had happened the past few days. The memories came crashing back and not in a healthy way. He groaned and grabbed for his head, willing his headache to go away but failing in the process. All he needed was a good night's rest, but nightmares were all he received lately.

The same image stalked him over and over again. In his dreams, he played baseball with Charlie, but this time, Charlie was still seven while he was an adult. It was a constant reminder that even now Don could not protect his younger brother from all the evil in the world, even if that meant Charlie was evil himself.

He quickly pushed that thought away. Charlie was not evil, if anything, he was..._misguided_.

A deep sigh nearly collapsed his lungs, but Don managed to push aside his blanket and get out of bed. He had no idea what time it was, but the sun was only just peeking over the horizon and the smell of coffee lingered in the air. His father probably had not managed to get any sleep last night and Don made a mental note to himself to keep a close eye on the eldest Eppes.

The last thing he wanted to deal with was an exhausted Alan on the brink of an heart attack. He would not be able to blame the man, though. Alan had witnessed his family fall apart so many times before. First when Charlie had been taken as a kid, later when his mother had died and now his family was shattered once more due to Charlie's sudden appearance and disappearance.

It all fell apart. No, Don corrected himself, it all falls down because he knew the end of this situation was not over yet. If anything, it was only just beginning.

Getting dressed quickly, he went downstairs to find Alan sitting at the kitchen table with a large mug of coffee before him and the newspaper spread across the table surface. Don knew he was looking for any signs of his youngest son or the criminal gang he now belonged to.

"Good morning, Dad," Don greeted him. He grabbed himself a mug and poured in some coffee, contemplating if it was even possible to get a sugar rush this early in the morning if he dumped five or more lumps of sugar in it. "Anything interesting?" He motioned towards the newspaper, but Alan only shook his head.

"What are we going to do, Don? Charlie is out there and I don't care in what kind of mess he is. He is my son and your brother and we ought to help him."

"Of course," Don assured his father, "and I promise you that I'll find him. Now that we have the Boss' real name, tracking him will become much easier."

"But not _easy_."

Don inhaled deeply, nodding. "I should get going," he said reluctantly, not really wanting to leave Alan alone, "because the longer Charlie is out there, the less likely we'll be able to find him."

He quickly drank his hot coffee, placed the now empty mug on the table and glanced one last time at his father. All that he saw was an old and nearly broken man, but Don refused to think that Alan had given up already. If anyone was stubborn in this family, it was his Dad since he had never given up on finding Charlie before.

He left the kitchen, grabbing his gun and badge and secured it on his belt. Since it looked to be a nice day out, he decided not to put on his coat and simply grabbed his car-keys while heading for the front door. As he stepped outside and closed the door again, he paused a moment to steady himself.

It was bound to be a difficult day and Don only hoped for some progress in their current case. Luckily, Peter Sullivan was starting to talk and more evidence was surfacing. It was almost enough to close in on the whole operation ran by the famous Boss, aka Julian Powell and Don couldn't wait until he cuffed that man and officially arrested him. It also made him fear that one day, he would have to do the same for Charlie.

Finding them was his first priority, though.

"Don?"

It seemed that last part wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Don spun on his heels, his eyes instantly locking onto a young man with brown curls and panicked eyes. Charlie's skin was pale, much paler than it should be and his hands trembled. Only then did Don spot the red on his fingers and shirt and he felt himself rush forward, his heart skipping a beat as he realized the horrible state his little brother was in.

"Charlie?" Don placed a hand on his thin shoulder and clammy face. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Slowly, Charlie shook his head while closing his eyes. "I'm fine," he managed to choke out, his eyes opening again, wider than ever before, "but I had to reach you, warn you! The Boss put a price on your head and now he is here to kill you."

Don's head snapped up, scanning his surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. "Who is he?"

"Please, get inside," Charlie almost seemed to beg, a hand forcefully grabbing Don's wrist, "please."

"Alright."

Gently taking Charlie's arm, Don guided his little brother towards the front door. For a moment, he fumbled with his keys, cursing himself for acting this nervous, but he managed to get inside safely only to observe more blood appearing on Charlie's shirt. The red stain grew and Charlie's face became drained of all colour.

"Dad!" Don called for Alan, rushing forward when he noticed Charlie's knees buckle. Just in time, he managed to wrap an arm around his brother's waist and help him reach the sofa. "Careful," he whispered to Charlie, helping him sit down gently.

"You're safe," Charlie half smiled, "that's all I needed to know."

Without saying anything, Don pushed up Charlie's shirt to see a gaping wound covering his side from which blood still flowed. "Oh God," Don exhaled, "you lied, Charlie, you're hurt." For a moment, he wondered if he should call him Alex in stead, but there were more important issues right now.

Alan appeared in the living room, his eyes wide with horror. "Donnie?"

"Grab a towel and call 911, Dad," Don ordered him, "_hurry_." He quickly focused his attention back on his little brother. "Charlie, why did you lie?"

"Had to...get you inside...as quickly as possible."

"Oh, Charlie." Don saw Charlie's eyes flutter shut and quickly reached for his cheek, willing him to stay awake. "Come on, buddy, keep alert. Talk to me."

Charlie groaned and coughed violently, blood dripping from his lips.

And Don could only wonder. "What happened to you?"


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: Don't own it.

**AN**: Thanks to those that reviewed. I hope this chapter offers some answers!

**- All Falls Down -**

**Chapter 12**

Crossing a street, Charlie carefully placed the gun in the back of his trousers, making sure that his shirt hid it from view. The last thing he wanted was to cause a panic; people easily started to scream when they spotted a man with a gun, but it was rather early and there was only the occasional person getting from their house into their car to get to work.

It was then that doubt started to settle in. Charlie knew he had to get to Don, but the question that really mattered was how. Don was on the other side of the city and Charlie had no money or car to get there. Walking would take him over four hours which was time he did not have. He contemplated if stealing a car would be his best option, but at that moment, a large, black SUV came driving besides him, causing Charlie's heart to skip a beat.

_Had the Boss' men already found him?_

The armoured car came to a complete stop and the window from the driver's seat rolled down and revealed a kind, older man. _John_. Charlie didn't know why, but he smiled when looking into his greyish eyes, suddenly feeling a relief flood through him. Perhaps not all hope is lost yet, he thought.

"Get in," John said kindly, stopping the car completely now.

Charlie did so, knowing that he still had a gun if he needed to defend himself. He quickly pushed aside those thoughts because this was John, this was a man Charlie considered to be his uncle, who would never hurt him. _Would he_? Fact remained that John still worked for the Boss so could he honestly be trusted?

John's next words made Charlie feel a little more at ease since his voice surprisingly calm. "I'll drive you to your brother. You'll get there faster than on foot." He pressed down on the gas and the car shot forward.

"Thanks," Charlie said, allowing himself to take in a deep breath. He leaned his head against the head-rest and dared closing his eyes for a few minutes. He only realized now how tired he actually felt due to the past events. So much had happened this morning alone and Charlie suddenly remembered Tiny's cry of agony when he had shot him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, unsure of how much time had past already. "Why?" he suddenly asked.

The question seemed to have taken John off guard since he didn't answer for a long moment later. Charlie noticed how his fingers were clenched around the steering wheel. "Why what? Why am I taking you to see your brother?" John waited for Charlie to nod. "Because you're Alex," he explained, "or should I call you Charlie now?"

"Charlie is fine."

"I saw you grow up into a fine man, Charlie," John said, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead, "and believe it or not, but I do care for you. I never had a family of my own, but if anyone is closest to me, it's you."

Charlie sighed heavily, knowing full well what John was risking for him at the moment. He too felt very close to him and the mere thought that this could get him into trouble with the Boss send shivers down his spine.

"Thanks," he said again.

"But you shouldn't have shot Tiny in the knee-cap," John almost reprimanded him, quickly casting him a glance before turning to look ahead once more. He turned the car into the east street and continued their journey. "He can't go to the hospital without being arrested since the police is always notified when your injury is a gun shot wound and Tiny is wanted criminal."

Charlie should feel a little remorseful, but he couldn't even kid himself. "He had it coming."

John chuckled, clearly amused. "Perhaps, but you pissed him and his friends of. You'll have to be careful, Charlie, not to get caught by them in the future."

"Don will protect me." Determination seeped through his voice.

"Are you sure?" John turned the car into another street. There sounded worry in his every word and something else as well, but Charlie couldn't quiet place it. "Because you have committed crimes in your life, Charlie, so who isn't to say that he won't arrest you as soon as you show up on his doorstep."

"Are you trying to change my mind?" Charlie didn't take his eyes away from John for even a second. Those greyish eyes seemed glued to the road, avoiding Charlie completely.

"Just think about it," John said, "if you do this, then there is no turning back. _Ever_." Again, that strange emotion became apparent in his voice, but Charlie dismissed it. It was only logical that John felt torn about the whole situation.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't care?"

"I would."

"I just need him to be alright, John" Charlie said, needing him to understand, "I have never before doubted who my family was, but then I met the Eppes and...I don't know." He sighed heavily. "I felt like I belonged. I had come home and leaving again was the most difficult thing I ever did in my life. If it wasn't for Peter Sullivan..." His voice died away, overcome by emotion. Not that he would cry – he had long ago learned never to cry. It was the first sign of weakness. At least, that was what the Boss had taught him.

However, John managed to complete his sentence. "You would have stayed."

"Yes," Charlie watched how John offered him a kind, almost sad smile, "I would have stayed, but I couldn't. Returning to the Boss only opened my eyes and made me realize that I never belonged there in the first place. You know me well enough, you should know that."

"I do," John eyed him, "which is why I know that you despise that weapon you have concealed behind your back."

Slowly, Charlie reached around his back and pulled out the gun. It was almost strange to be holding it again, its weight heavy and dangerous, but knowing that he would never need to use it again brought him comfort. He had never been a violent man and weapons had always caused a shiver to run down his back.

"Give it to me," John said, holding out a hand, "Charlie, you can trust me."

He had gotten into his car willingly, he had trusted him ten minutes ago so why couldn't he trust him now? Would John really shoot him once he had the weapon? Charlie shrugged away that feeling. He could trust John, he _had_ to trust John. Gently, he gave him the gun and watched how he emptied the clip with one hand – keeping his other one on the steering wheel - and tossed the weapon onto the back seat. It was a completely harmless gun now.

"Why are you doing this?" John suddenly asked, his voice tight. "The Boss has always been kind to you, loved you and now you're running to your other family."

Charlie swallowed when hearing those words. "You think betraying your family is the worst possible crime, don't you?"

"I would have died for you," John said in a low voice, "I would have done _anything_ for you."

Again, he made a left turn and Charlie suddenly realized that John knew exactly where they were going. "While everyone knew you had grown too attached to your brother," John continued, "the Boss kept believing that you'd turn around, that you'd realize who mattered to you."

The realisation came slowly, too slowly for Charlie's otherwise genius brain; he should never have gotten into the car!

"I did what I had to," he said quietly, "but _you_ are here as well. If I am betraying the Boss by returning to Don, then what are you doing?"

They were only three blocks away from the Eppes' home now.

"I am doing what should have been done a long time ago," John snapped. His hand disappeared into the inner pocket of his jacket for a second and he pulled out a knife, a weapon more painful than a gun.

Charlie couldn't help but look back at the empty gun laying on the back seat. He cursed himself for having been so blind, for having trusted John when he knew he was loyal to the Boss in the first place.

"Are you going to kill me too?" He asked nervously. All that he could think, was getting out of this car as quickly as possible.

"You are returning with me, _Alex_," John said violently, "and you are going to face punishment. No one walks away from the Boss and no one betrays him like you did."

Charlie didn't know why he did it, but suddenly his hands flung forward and grabbed the steering wheel, pulling it his right. John cried out in surprise and brought down his hand holding the knife. The blade sunk deep into Charlie's stomach who screamed in agony. The car flew across the road as John lost control over the vehicle and it landed on its side, trapping John and Charlie inside.

His surroundings swam around him, but Charlie forced himself to open his eyes. Bile rose in his throat and black spots threatened to consume his entire vision, but he managed to focus and look at John who lay with his eyes closed, blood running down his face as his head had slammed against the side window.

Slowly, as if every movement caused a thousand needles to pierce his body, Charlie opened his door with much effort and crawled from the passenger seat. Smoke erupted from the hood of the car and glass lay scattered on the road, but no one was around to have witnessed the accident. It was only a matter of time before John would wake and understand what had happened. Charlie needed to act quickly and so he began to walk, his hand pressing down on his stab wound.

His legs felt like those of a doll, completely out of control and empty, and his head felt extremely light, but he managed to walk, keeping his mind occupied by thinking of Don. _He had to reach Don. He had to warn him, protect him. Just a little while longer and he would be home. Finally._

He reached the right street after what seemed a century.

Coughing violently, Charlie tasted blood in his mouth, but he felt new energy course through his veins as he saw the Eppes home before him. Making sure that John wasn't behind him – he wasn't – Charlie made his way to Don who just exited the house, but hadn't noticed him.

His hands were trembling now, his legs threatening to give away, but he finally reached his brother. He would finally be able to warn him.

"Don?"

**AN: I hope that explained some things. Next chapter will began where the previous one left of. Thanks for reading!**


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